Thirty-Six #3
“Nic!” I bend down and grab him by the waist, tipping him upside down as he gurgles with laughter and ineffectually flails his fists at my shins, shrieking as his shirt falls around his shoulders, exposing his little six-year-old belly.
I hug him to me, eventually putting him down on the ground.
I want to ask how he is doing, whether he is okay, but I don’t want to upset him, although he doesn’t seem upset in the slightest. “How’s your day going? ” I ask instead.
He shrugs. “I have a ton of new trucks.”
“Nice. I saw you with a yellow one earlier.”
“Yeah.” He squints his eyes as he looks up at me. “Do you know our dad is dead?” I look over at Preeti, who grimaces. Neither
of us know what to say.
I crouch down so I am on his level. “I do know that. Our dad was a fantastic man, and the one thing I know is that he’s up
there keeping all of us safe and watching over us.”
Preeti crouches down next to me. “I’m Preeti.” She extends a hand to shake hands with Nico, who, I am gratified to see, shakes
her hand, looks her in the eye, and says “I’m pleased to meet you” in a very grown-up way.
“I’m from India, and my religion is Hinduism. We believe that when someone dies, they don’t really die. It’s just their body
that’s gone, but their souls are reincarnated and they always come back.”
Nico is curious. “When is my daddy coming back?”
“He’s not able to come back in the same body. That’s the problem. But we believe he will be born again. Right now his soul
is resting, but it’s going to return to earth to continue its journey.”
Nico frowns. He has no idea what to make of this, and I have to be honest, neither do I. It seems easier to say he’s up in
heaven watching over us, although that freaks me out a little bit; will I ever be able to have sex again without thinking
of a wispy version of my father watching me from the heavens? Urgh. I shudder involuntarily as Preeti looks at me. “You okay?”
“I don’t even want to begin to tell you what I was thinking about.”
“My grandfather came back as a cat,” she says to Nico, who is now transfixed. “He was a beautiful black cat who we found sitting
on our doorstep a few months after my grandfather died. He had exactly the same black silky hair as my grandfather. When we
opened the front door and found him sitting there, he came straight into the house, and knew exactly where he was going. He
made his way to my grandfather’s favorite chair, and curled up. That’s how we knew.”
Nico’s face shines with delight, and I realize that none of this is harmful, all of it will help ease the loss he doesn’t
even realize he has yet. “Will my daddy be coming back as a cat?”
“Maybe,” she says. “Or he might be in the next baby born in your family. He might be a dog. Or a butterfly. We don’t know,
but we do know his soul is coming back, and he will find you.”
“Okay.” Nico shrugs as another child, the same age as him, bursts through the trees and tags him, and Nico tears off, chasing
after his friend.
“That was interesting,” says Preeti. “I hope I didn’t confuse him. I thought it might be helpful.”
“I’m sure it was. It’s not as interesting as this,” I mutter, meaning the handsome man walking toward us. Lucy and Noah approach,
and my heart lurches. Remembering last night, I turn a beet red, keeping my eyes fixed on Lucy. I have no idea what to say
to Noah. I have no idea what to do about Noah. The one thing I haven’t thought about today, the one thing I have studiously
avoided thinking about today, is Noah.
Preeti and Lucy hug as Noah looks at me. “You okay?” he says. I nod, not trusting myself to speak. “Do you want to grab a
drink? I was going to head to the bar.” I nod as Noah interrupts Preeti and Lucy to see if they want anything.
Seconds later, I am walking next to Noah, feeling as if I can’t breathe.
I have crossed my arms, because I honestly don’t know if I will be able to keep my hands to myself, to stop from touching him, running my fingers down his cheek, his spine.
I believe in chemistry, of course. I don’t think I have ever experienced it in quite this way.
The silence stretches out ahead of us. “Do you want to talk about last night?” he asks. Over Noah’s shoulder I see Jerome
in the distance. He sees me at the same time I see him.
“I don’t know what to say. Thank you for looking after me last night. It was . . . meaningful.”
“It wasn’t really about looking after you.” Noah looks confused.
“I know. I’m sorry. I’m not good at this.” With panic, I see Jerome excusing himself from his conversation and walking toward
us. “I have a boyfriend, Noah. Last night shouldn’t have happened. There’s too much going on right now. I’m so sorry, but
I can’t do this. Not today.”
Noah sees Jerome striding toward us. “I understand,” he says softly. “I’ll always be here for you if you need anything.” He
holds my gaze until Jerome approaches then walks away.
“What was that about?” Suspicion drips from Jerome’s question. I don’t respond.
I don’t think I have ever felt more bereft in my life.